


...Adam

by Lamamu



Series: Midam ramblings [1]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Canon Universe, M/M, Mutual Pining, POV Adam Milligan, Pining Michael, Post-Cage, Protective Michael, midam, pining adam
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-03
Updated: 2018-11-03
Packaged: 2019-08-16 22:07:32
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 809
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16503602
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lamamu/pseuds/Lamamu
Summary: Okay so I've been writing Midam in the RP community for a couple of months now and it's beautiful. The angst is so pure.....and we all know how much I love my angst, right?Most of this will be from Adam's POV (because I'm writing Adam while my lovely co-conspirator writes Michael).It's post-cage, and Adam has aged as though he would have if he had lived a normal life, so he's 28 or so...So anyway enjoy and let me know what you think.!





	...Adam

**Author's Note:**

> Here, we find Adam at the beginning of his story.

It was nice while it lasted. The oblivion, the ignorance that came hand in hand with having his memories altered. Sure, he’d had nightmares in the past, but that was all they were.

Or so he told himself. So his therapist had told him. And his psychiatrist. And his normal doctor. Hell, even the dude at the Speedway gas station on the Highway 18 exit on the Madison ring road told him it wasn’t real. How could it be? No, it was just something his mind had made up to cover the trauma of losing his mother to a home invasion when he was in his first year of university.

It was well documented that a highly stressful experience could lead a person down the merry path to insanity, and losing the only family he ever truly had was definitely a qualifier for Adam Milligan. Sure, he’d met his father John once a year or so but that didn’t really count. Not when his mother had to work so hard to keep a roof over their heads. Not when he had to make his own dinner and put himself to bed. He’d tried to be a good son for her. Adam had done his best to make sure she didn’t have /him/ to worry about.

He did his homework, got good grades and even got a full ride at UW Madison so he could get his medical degree. Which, after his ‘setback’ following his mom’s death, he had pursued with a passion and a fire that was second to none. He’d lost enough time in the mental hospital trying to sort his nightmares into what was real and what wasn’t, and now, years later he’d made resident, way ahead of schedule.

Because he was driven, because he was just that good, and because he actually had a personality that was likeable.

For the most part.

So there he was at the tender age of twenty-eight with a stethoscope around his neck and his own parking space at the university hospital where he’d taken the position as an emergency trauma doctor. Originally, Adam’s intention was to go into neurology, but after his mother had died on the operating table in the ER she’d been taken to when her unconscious body had been found he’d changed his mind.

Maybe _he_ would be able to make a difference and save a life where others couldn’t.

Adam couldn’t possibly know that he was driven by the same need to save people as the brothers he couldn’t remember even existed, or the truth about his heritage. He had no idea that the nightmares buried in his past were something that couldn’t possibly be denied forever. Even the most skillfully woven web would unravel if the strings were pulled hard enough.

Oblivion was nice.

Or had been, right up until the moment he’d seen the deep slashes on the body of the undergrad female who was on his operating table. Bite marks, that’s what they looked like. Adam could see the rough cuts, the blunt incisor punctuations and the torn flesh that resembled nothing more than a piece of cow hide that a pack of wild dogs had been ripping into. He looked closer and his heart skipped a beat, picking up the pace as his mind clouded with images from his nightmares.

Something snapped inside Adam’s mind and suddenly he was inside a box, trapped. No, he was inside a beautiful room coughing up blood. Or was he turning into a pillar of fire?

Reality warped.

He stumbled back from the operating table as a new feeling emerged inside him, and suddenly there was pain like he couldn’t believe in his own abdomen and legs. Adam backed away from the body in front of him until he hit the wall, knocking over surgical equipment in his attempt to escape.

Hands clutched at his stomach as he felt _teeth_  tearing into his soft flesh, and he could have sworn he heard laughter as his own spleen was torn out and held in front of his eyes. He couldn’t breathe, he was drowning in his own blood, suffocating on the panic in his own mind as he saw the scene of his own death overlaid on what was really happening in the operating theatre.

More hands that he desperately tried to push away and another voice. His own, screaming into a void he didn’t recognise just as he felt another sharp pain in his arm as his colleague stabbed him with enough sedative to level a horse.

Begging for the ones responsible to make it right.

But, as he lost consciousness and slipped into the drug induced slumber the other doctor had sent him into, Adam couldn't stop the thought that surfaced.

Who the hell was he even talking to…. And what the fuck was happening?

 


End file.
